The Black Order
by Usagi-Twins
Summary: Allen is a boy who loves to wander to the Black Order which is a forbidden place but when they accuse him of being a witch what will he do to escape and go to what he deeply desires or will he die as the people before did.
1. Prolugue

**Candy: Hello and we are both here to make another story HOORAY~!**

**Lavi: Yeah!**

**Allen: What are you guys writing about?**

**Choco: This time is about how you are in a magical place and is struggling to survive and JUST READ THE FUCKING STORY!**

**Allen: Right…**

**Lavi: Allen you should've expected this.**

**Allen: I know…**

**Candy: Lavi do the disclaimer~**

**Lavi: Candy&Choco doesn't own anything in this story literally nothing, NOTHING AT ALL!  
Choco: ONWARDS~!**

_Fire, fire flaming bright,_

_Golden in the autumn night,_

_Warn me with your eldritch sight,_

_What danger comes, and what delight._

I am seven years old. My father takes me to a witch burning. He runs in close enough to throw sticks in the pyre. The fire roars. The woman, Jane Fine, screams, flames sneaking up her gown. Loud cracks of wood or bone. I am crying, choking on the smoke, the burning flesh. Too late Grandfather forces his way in, picks me up, and races back through the mob. I knew Jane Fine. She made pretty candles with flower petals pressed into the sides. They said Jane's candles blazed with hellfire; that she danced with Satan in Black Order, Grandfather holds me close. I weep in his strong arms, bury my head in his cloak. Jane is consumed by the fire.

I am twelve years old. I run away, after my father breaks my arm. I creep into Black Order, thought it is against the law to go there. I have come here before to escape my life, to scale a pine tree and feel the wind. This night I cannot climb; my broken arm is still in a sling. Brilliant shining specks swirl deep in the woods; will-o'-wisps fly ahead- tiny fairies, cousins to the ones that awe human sized. I laugh and chasing them. I am filled with a deep longing I have no words for. They dance in magical patterns as I run. In this moment I am free from my raging father, from my mother, who can't protect either one of us from his anger well kind of, from my fettered life in town. I am wild as the fey.

I am laughing. I am crying. The fiery wisps vanish.

I am seventeen years old. The sexton is burning a leaf pile in the graveyard. We have some to bury my baby brother, Adam. There are six other graves here, all my baby sisters from year's past. My eyes are swollen from crying. I am holding my mother's hand. I am her only living child. With her other hand, my mother rubs my back. Across the tiny grave is my father stands, head down, His second son gone to earth. I glare at the midwife whose useless herbs did not save my brother.

Sparks whirl up from the burning leaves. The firelight draws me in. I grow as still. I cannot fell my mother's hands. The churchyard fades. All is flame. I know I am being pulled into a fire-sight. I have had visions before. When they come I am transfixed and I cannot look away. In the pulsing blaze I see a man swinging a hammer. His body shimmers, Green in the flames. I cannot make out his face, all dark shadow in the flames. Light flashed from his hammer, cutting bright across my face and chest. I feel the mallet's icy light.

**Candy: Well there's the first chapter or prologue hope you enjoyed**

**Allen: Who is this character?**

**Candy&Choco: -.-**

**Lavi: It's you Allen**

**Allen: Oh…**

**Candy: Well we're finished here review to tell us how you enjoyed it.**

**Choco: Yes tell us so we can delete this story if you guys don't like it~!**


	2. Chapter 1 The Mysterious Man

**Candy: Hello and we are both back to update again~  
Choco: We are seriously going to update faster I swear!**

**Lavi: I think they're lying~**

**Candy: Shut your face!**

**Choco: We're only going to focus on this one because this has special circumstances so the other stories will have to wait a bit so thank you all for the favorites and follows and reviews everyone they were very generous.**

**Lavi: Uhh Candy&Choco doesn't own D. Gray-Man or anything else in this story.**

**Candy&Choco: Onwards~!**

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I see visions in the fire sometimes, images of the past or what is yet to come. The fire-sight does not lie. But I did not see the witch hunter who would ride in to scour our town of sin, so I did not know to run.

The whole of Wilde Island had been in an uproar all summer. King Bookman died in June. His eldest son and heir was away on crusade. A king's regent, Lord Earl Millennium, ruled until his return. In July, thieves crept into Bookman Castle and stole the royal treasure: crown, scepter, jewels and all. For the rest of that summer, King's younger soon and his knights searched everywhere for the treasure. The army swarmed in and tore up our town. But it was the one who rode in next, the one we welcomed with open arms, who did us the most harm.

I start my story the day the witch hunter came. It was a misty September morning a week after we buried my baby brother, Adam. I'd been shut away in mourning. Hunger, lack of market money, and the need to make soup for our table drove me out. Basket in hand, I left town with my friends to gather wild onions. Lala wore her newly woven cloak, a light golden that matched her hair. Lenalee bedecked her dark green braids with fleabane flowers.

My empty stomach was coiled tight as a snake. "Do you think we'll find enough onions for soup?" Lala and Lenalee didn't go without, but my family had nothing to eat that morning, and free food was hard to come by.

"I saw good patch. Plenty growing there," Lenalee said. She looped her arm through mine. "You should let me help you with that." She peered at my black eye- a gift from my father, Cross Marian.

"I'm all right."

Lala and I were pretty enough, but Lenalee struck men dumb. I probably should say that I like guys but not many people accepts that anyways back with Lenalee. They saw her soft curving shape, her milky skin and forest green hair. I saw the friend who's played fairy princess and prince with me when we were small, who'd tried to pull my first wiggling tooth out with a string.

The trees in the Black Order rustled in the wind along the boundary wall. Mist blew up from the sea and swirled at our feet like witch's hair. I looked to the pines, longing to scale one.

"When's the wedding Allen?" Lala asked.

"What wedding?"

"You're to marry Master Mikk soon," Lala reminded me.

"Never." "You're seventeen. If not Master Mikk, it will be someone else." I'd had other suitors; none were rich enough to please my father until this latest one. He wanted to rope me to an older Man with money, one who kept his wife in the same fashion he'd kept his own. Master Mikk had grown children. He'd outlived three wives already. And husband would not make it better. I'd seen the wives bruised faces when I'd met them at the town well. The welts on their arms just like mine and Mother's.

"Wedlock is a hangman's noose," I said simply.

"Allen!" Lala gasped.

Lenalee tugged my silver white hair and giggles.

"Wedlock- a telling word; woman are locked in, the husband keeps the key." I spin around. "Give me a man who never beats his lover or child, who lets his lover ride out when they like, who buys her ink that they might draw or write, books that she might read, who walks beside them and not before them, and not make them empty the piss pot." _Who does not mind that she slips into The Black Order to see the great old dragons and glimpse the fairy folk, _I thought, but did not say. "A man who listens when they speak and enjoys their conversation, and I will marry."

Lenalee hooted.

Lala laughed enough to shake her curls. "You ask for the stars! Why not add that he's young and tall, well-muscled, with straight teeth, a deep laugh, and a dimple on his cheek."

"That too." I nodded a appreciatively.

Lala went on, "Pale-skinned-"

"No, sun-kissed." I said.

Lenalee bowed to me. "Beautiful Prince Allen, will you marry me?"

I liked that she called me beautiful despite my scar on my left eye, black eye on my right, deformed arm, white hair and my left ear that Father had boxed so many times the skin was puckered like cauliflower. I was almost completely deaf on that side.

"My Lady," I said putting out my hand. We dropped our baskets and danced.

"You'll both end up as nuns," Lala warned, but she danced with us till we were all out of breath. A ray of sun fell across the road. We'd been friends all of our lives. I did not know then how much I would hurt them both, and how soon.

"So you see, I'll never marry." I said simply.

"You have no romance in your heart." Lala was disappointed. She was lucky to have wed Guzol Weaver when she was fourteen. Guzol was a youth with little means who lived with his mother and his father, Old Weaver. He'd never beaten Lala or their daughter, Alice, to my knowledge. Guzol was the exception.

I touched my puffy eye as we walked on. So many women in town wore the dull, downtrodden look that went with cats, bruises, and broken bones. Ah, I'd noticed the tipped heads and hunched shoulders. I recognized the same look in my mother's pinched face, and in my own after my Father broke my arm.

Lenalee glanced at Lala. "Allen thinks to live alone and make a living off her music or her stories."  
"Lenalee! That was between you and me." I'd not told Lala knowing what she'd say.

Lala cocked a brow. "Men paint and, scribe and make music for a living. You might be able to pull it off but being alone and that sexy that will make people think you're a witch." Mother had said the same, though grandfather had taught me how to draw, write, and keep sums, and I'd kept accounts for Father's blacksmith shop for years. My sums were tidy, our finances were not. Mother's midwife drained our purse. Father drank up what was left. Thus our outing for this day's onions.

Lala went on. "A young person should keep to themselves and earn her own way. Do you want to end up burned for a witch like Jane Fine?"

"She sold artful candles, Lala. I make music.

"What's the difference? Living by your lonesome without a man to protect you? They'll call you a witch and burn you."

"Jane Fine stole into The Black Order and danced with Satan there," Lenalee reminded. "Allen would never do that."

"She made us go over the boundary wall once," Lala argued.

"To gather black berries," I said. "What's the harm of that? No one saw us go in."

"Are you sure?" We'd seen my father in The Black Order with Daisya Barry that day. They'd broken the law, slinking into king's protected lands to hunt deer. But we'd hidden from them.

"Here," Lenalee said. We waded through the long wet grass to the onion patch she's spied on earlier. My mouth watered. I pulled two and ate them. I couldn't help it. After that I gathered in earnest for my family's table. The patch was just beside the stone wall. The evergreens whispered over us, casting filigree or shadows on the ground. Lenalee was wrong. I'd crept I many nights. Not to dance with Satan, never that, but to run, climb the trees, listens to the singing wind, see the moonlit world from up on high.

I loved the sanctuary that Queen Rosalind Bookman and King Bookman made long ago. They'd restored the heart of Wilde Island, once home to dragons and fey alike, by giving them their own reserve. _My place too._

Trying to keep away from The Black Order Only increased my longing. I could barely breathe in our house above the shop. At night I'd pace in my upstairs room with pricking skin, leaden lungs until it was dark enough to flee. Then out my window, down the oak tree, I'd loose myself from town, racing hard till I reached the sanctuary. Not even my closest friends seemed compelled to climb the boundary wall as I did night after night to run and run and run. Times I felt I must go in or die. And when I was away from it, I drew what I'd seen there in the moonlight: Dragons, deer, foxes owls, the shining will-o'-wisps, and the fey folk I'd been lucky enough to glimpse.

Lala hummed a tune. I dug up another onion, green as dragon scales. Last week I'd spied a mighty dragon winging over the moonlit wood. A long jagged scar traced down his neck. He didn't see me hiding in the branches when we wheeled down scoring Harrow River with his fire. The river, dark blue in twilight glittered like spilled gold with his flame.

"Allen." Lala teased. "Where have you gone?"

"She's always dreaming," Lenalee said.

Horse hooves pounded down the road. "Hush. Someone is coming." Knights rounded the bend, riding along in their splendid livery, two men blew their trumpets. The herald behind them called, "Hear ye! Hear ye! Come all ye citizens of Harrow town and in the town square!"

Lala jumped up. "Let's go."

I gripped my basket. "If I don't have enough onions for supper I'll be beat for it."

"We'll come back later Allen," Lenalee said. "You can't refuse royal summons."

"They already ransacked our town for the missing treasure." I supplied.

Lenalee stood. "Maybe they've come to say it's found. Or announce Prince Krory's come home from the crusades at last."

"To be crowned our new Wilde Island king." Lala added.

A royal summons was rare enough. Knights had to ride south enough along Kingsway road, tracing the edge of The Black Order down the coast from Bookman castle fifty miles to the north down to our town of Harrow town, at the southernmost tip of the reserve. Ah, and they'd have o ride hundreds of miles south after that to spread their news, for isle is long and slender as a man's riding boot, stretching four hundred miles top to toe.

"Well?" Lenalee said.

I plucked a handful of buttercups, washed my filthy hands in the wet grass, stood. If Prince Krory was home, I didn't want to miss the news. As we raced back down the road Saint Cuthbert's bells clanged so folk as far off as Old Weaver's shop on the edge of town would hear the summons.

Townsfolk poured from shops and cottages. We joined the people on the northern half of town heading for the market square, crossing the stone bridge over the Harrow River that split our town in two. Halfway across the bridge, I spied a tall young man standing on the far side at the water's edge. Hands on hips, he stared past the coming crowed and back down the road at the approaching cavalcade. Mist rising from the river swathed the man in pearly light. I knew the folk in Harrow town. I did not know him.

"Come on, Allen." Lala tugged my hand. My feet obeyed. Gusting wind blew the sun-kissed youth's hair back from his high fore head. I caught his firm jaw and eye patch and rounded eyebrows. He wore a mallet at his side, and a black head band. And arm band in mourning for our dead king. The crowed was along the bridge. I slowed my step, watching him. His tunic was green, the color wood wards wear. The Bookman's hired wood ward's to help the dragons and the fey guard The Black Order and boot intruder out. We had our own man patrolling the south end of the reserve (though he'd not yet caught me!). What was this wood ward doing here? Had he come with the riders? I saw no horse.

My breath caught when he glanced my way, his eyes dark green like emeralds. I glimpsed his keen expression before he pulled up his hood, turned, and vanished into the crowed. Fey folk can disappear that swiftly and that well, but I did not think he was fey.

I was still trying to spot him when I was swept into the throng.

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**Candy: Well there's that chapter **

**Choco: Hope you guys enjoyed and please keep up the reviews to motivate us because this story is timed**

**Lavi: By that she means they need support before Friday comes because Friday is the last day they are posting or aiding this story**

**Allen: What kind of challenge is that!**

**Candy: I don't know and don't care!**


	3. Chapter 2 Witch Hunt

**Candy: Hello and we are both back to update again~  
Choco: We are sorry for not updating but our internet went out so we already have the chapter down but the internet needs to get back up so yeah…  
Lavi: Oh no wonder  
Candy: Anyways Lavi would you like to do the disclaimer**

**Lavi: Uhh sure? Candy&Choco doesn't own D. Gray-Man or anything else in this story.**

**Candy&Choco: Onwards~!**

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"Up here." Lala climbed onto the stone bench skirting the well. Lenalee and I just hopped up from there we could see above the crowd. People jostled for position close to the stage beside Sheriff Moa's jailhouse. I scanned the gathering, trying to find the man I'd seem at the water. So many feet stirred up the common street stench. Folk tossed garbage out their windows day and night, and emptied their sewage pots onto the cobbles below. The muckrakers were sorely over worked, trying to keep up with it all. My nose was schooled to the odor: still, a brisk sea breeze wouldn't be amiss just now.

Mother pushed her way through the mob with my father and Master Mikk.

"There's your betrothed," Lala said, spotting him too.  
Goose-necked, middle-aged Master Mikk carried a fat purse. My father would prosper from the match. "Let my father marry him if he likes him so much."

"Allen!" Lenalee laughed.

Lala's husband, Guzol Weaver, pressed his way through the crowd with little Alice riding on his shoulder's. He joined us at the well. The brunet-haired weaver was taller than most folk, so three-year-old Alice had the best view of all atop his shoulders. She glanced back at her mother, and then pointed to my black eye. "That's sore," She said.

"Hush Alice." Lala patted her daughter's small back. _Alice lived, _I thought. _Some children here live. Why not Mother's?_ Why was I the only one to survive when all the rest died even down to Adam? I touched Alice's golden curl lightly, so she did not feel it and did not turn around.

On the other end of the square I spied Choaji with his plump, sow-eyed sister, Joan Midwife, who'd lost every child my mother birthed. A sour taste came to my mouth.

Lenalee pointed to the bridge. "Look."

A shout went up: "Lady Eliade!" People cleared a path for the horses, waving and calling her name. At the end of the procession, a pimply boy drove a cart with the lady's trunks and three stately deerhounds with red velvet collars.

I'd been in bed with fever the last time Lady Eliade came to town, so I'd not seen her myself: She never seen her royal escort or the Gray Knight sent by her uncle, the king's regent, Lord Millennium, to guard the lady. The red plum atop the Gray Knight's helmet bounced in time with his horse, and the black swan of the Millennium family crest was pinned on his shield. But among the riders, it was Lady Eliade who caught my eye and kept it.

Sitting in the saddle, she straddles the horse like a man even though ladies both highborn and low- were all taught to ride sidesaddle so as to not split their skirts. Astonished at her gall, I watched as she steered her horse toward the stage that served as a speech platform, players' stage, and hanging gallows.

The youthful Lady was all opposition in her dress, both plain and fancy. A short gauzy veil covered the top half of her face. She wore a proper black armband about the sleeve of her gray gown just like the wood ward had. Yet for all this, her belt was jeweled, her sword ruby-studded.

_Here's a woman who has mastered the world of men, _I thought _Unfettered by marriage, in command of her own life. _How had she risen to a man's post. Commanding eight knights?

I had to admit I'd expect to see a more downcast woman, knowing her sad tale. As the story went, witches kidnapped Lady Eliade four years back, when she was just eighteen. On the night of the Black Sabbath they tortured her in the Black Order, slit her ankle tendon so she could not run, burned her with hot pokers, and worst of all, put out her left eye.  
The lady knew violence from witches; we knew violence from our fathers and husbands. Still, she was more than conqueror now. _Draw her_, I thought. I do not draw well but it was the thought that counts right? But still I did not render people well, yet my fingers tingled, thinking how I'd ink the straight line of her back.

I tossed her my buttercups. Three thin streams caught in her horse's mane. She took two in her free hand. A smile bloomed below her veil. I was glad I'd thrown them. As she rode past, one blossom fell from the white mane and was crushed under her horse's hoof.

Anon she dismounted and took the stage walking with a slight limp with her witch-wound. Above us all, she raised her hand. "Good citizens." She paused for silence.

Had they found the treasure? Was Prince Krory home to be crowned?

The town was still waiting. "We have all been in mourning for our noble Bookman king. God rest King Bookman's soul," She said.

"God rest his soul," We all said, crossing ourselves.

"And we are an isle without its royal treasure until young Prince Deak and his armies find the thieves who stole it."  
She let the words sink in. The treasure was still lost.

"But I have not come here to speak of sadness or missing treasure. I have come to ask you, people of Edo to stand with me and make ready for the Prince Krory, our future king!"

"Make ready for King Krory," we cried.

She drew her sword and held it up. A ray of sunlight glinted from the blade. "Prince Krory has risked life and limbs these past four years fighting in the crusades. Should our God-fearing prince come home now to find beloved island crawling with Satan's spawn?"

"No!

"Never!"

"Then," she cried, "let us scour our island clean of wickedness before our new king returns!"

People raised their hands shouting. I felt a fervor growing in me. Townsfolk gazed up at her in that spreading light as if she were an Angel of the Lord come to purify us.

When the shouting abated, the lady sheathed her sword and pulled back her veiled, revealing the black eye patch covering her glass eye. The sight sent a soft uneasy moan through the crowd. We'd all heard how King Bookman asked the fey folk to create a a glass eye especially for the lady after she'd been attacked. Some said the eye was magical, that it empowered her to winnow out a witch.

The lady steeped forward. "How do we know not a witch?"  
Quavering, I drew my hood up. Was this another witch hunt? She's come to Edo Four years back, right after her abduction. I did not know she was still on the hunt.

"Witched be the toothless hags what stink up the room!" One man joked.

Lady Eliade said, "How easy that would be, sir. But witched are more cunning than that. Any woman standing in this crowd with us today could be a witch. They are not always old crones. Some are young and lissome." She paused and lifted her eye patch. Now her fey eye was on the crowd. We all gasped. The sound came in a wave. I sucked a breath in and could not let it out.

"Could she be you neighbor, the baker's daughter? Is she the girl at the well? A friend who has herb skills? Does he look innocent and yet he harbors secret powers?"

Sweat licked my back. Only Grandfather knew I had fire-sight, and he's warned me to keep the power secret. The visions came when I was alone, so I'd managed to keep it to myself- until the day we buried Adam. In the sexton's burning leaf pile by the grave I saw a flaming man all green and shining in the fire, swinging his bright mallet. Later that same day I ran to Joan Midwife's house to demand our money back. I found her cutting eel for her stewpot.

"Pay me back for the herbs we bought to cure Adam, or I'll spread the word, Joan Midwife."  
"What word?"

"Adam died because of you, filthy hag. You're not fit to handle infants. I'll spread the word about you. No one will ask you to be their midwife now!"

"Was it me made Adam die? I saw you staring at a fire, didn't I? In a trance, you were in the graveyard." She poked her gray tongue through her gray teeth. "What witch spells were you casting, boy?"

"Who is the witch?" Lady Eliade asked again. "Look to any girl seen entering the Black Order. She goes there after Satan. In secret places she joins her coven to torture her victims; she even sacrifices children, stewing their bones for the power it gives her. She's a woman with a devil's heart!"

Lenalee took my hand and Lala my arm. Both were frightened, though they'd only come in once with me for berries.

"No one saw us," I whispered to Lenalee. But her wild-eyed look asked, _Did your father maybe on that day, or the leech?_

"We're exposed so high up here," I said. "Let's get down."

Lala managed to squeeze in next to Tom, but he could not make room for Lenalee or me with the mob backed all the way up to the edge of the well. I tried to force my way down onto the cobbles and felt a crushing weight as my foot was pinned against the bench. I grunted with pain, tugging my leg, and barely managed to pull my foot back.

Up on stage Lady Eliade turned her head slowly left to right. "A witch brings pestilence to your town, and death. Are your elderly safe from her, are your children? A witch only gives a babe the evil eye for it to sicken and die." Oh, that went to my heart, thinking of my newly born brother, dead. I was not the only one, for next I heard father's booming voice.

"She's a witch!" He pointed through the crowd. "Joan Midwife! She poisoned our newborn son and made him die!"

The midwife shrieked, and I screamed, "No!" I tried again to clamber down and reach my father, whose arm was out, finger pointing. I knew he was still crazed over losing Adam.

I'd cursed Joan Midwife to her face a week ago when she wouldn't pay me back for her useless herbs. I might have called the midwife a witch when I fought with my father later in the backyard, but I hadn't meant it. Surely he knew that?

I had one foot on the ground and was still pinned up against the well when I saw my father moving like a great muscled bull forcing his way through the throng, shouting, "Witch!"

Stop him, Mother!" She couldn't hear me over the din.

One man called, "Midwife's a witch?"

Then another, "A witch surely. I lost my child after she tended birth!"

"She gave my girl the evil eye!"

"Makes a man pay whether they live or not."

"Get her!"

My shouts of "Stop. She's not a witch!" were swallowed up with all the rest. The excited crowd churned like a tide pool. Some coming closer to the stage, some trying to back away from it as Midwife Joan and her brother, Choaji, fought their way toward a side lane trying to escape.

Father was still bounding for Joan with his fists up when two of Lady's knights caught the woman from behind and dragged her toward the sheriff's house.

"Let me go!" She howled. "The man's a liar!"  
"Witch! Witch!" people called. I couldn't believe how quickly they'd let my father's single outburst poison their minds against her.

"You want a witch?" The midwife screeched. "Look as your son, Cross Marian!" Joan was dragged inside the sheriff's house. The heavy door slammed shut.

Struggling, I tried to push through the throng.

"Allen," Lenalee called from somewhere behind me. I could not stop for her. The alley was hidden by the pressing bodies, but I knew it was there. Get to it and I could run. Hood on, head down, I forced my way through, ramming into the fishmonger, stumbled. The crowd swirled around me. More shouts. _Witch? Where? I know Allen. He was here._

_There he is._

I ran, was knocked to the cobbles. On all fours I tried to crawl. Scratch my way to the alley. Where was it? Which way? Gowns, pant legs, stench, I stood, push passed the man I'd seen earlier at the river.

More shouts. _Allen there he is! _Heart in my throat, I reeled for the alley, ran past the baker's, cobbler's. Large hands grabbed me. Choaji. "Call my sister a witch, Allen, Cross's son and I'll call you one!" His face was beet red as raw beef. Spittle foamed in the corner of his mouth.

I struggled against him. Father doesn't mean it. He'll take it back. Let me go!"

He was thickly built, stronger than I. I screamed and fought as he dragged me back through the crowd toward the stage.

"I've him now! Allen the witch! He's a witch! Not my sister!"  
I stomped his foot, elbowed him, threw back my head to pull away.

On stage Lady Eliade looked down. Her fey eye on me.

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**Candy: I hate Choaji even more now it's just SO MUCH HATE FOR HIM!**

**Choco: I'm pretty sure we're going to kill him and his sister for the fuck of it he's not even going to effect the story except for this part…**

**Allen: Wait so he's not important any more?**

**Candy&Choco: No  
**

**Lavi: THEN KILL THE BITCH!**

**Candy&Choco: YEAH NOW YOU'RE TALKING!**

**Allen: -.- well I apologize readers for their behavior. Anyways if you be so kind to leave a review and comment on the story.**

**Candy, Choco, Lavi: SHOULD CHOAJI AND HIS SISTER DIE OR STAY ALIVE TELL US!**


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